How Do I Cancel Novellair?

The new intern, Cynthia Joller, had posted about me online, claiming the company had made them use their leave for team building. No one wanted to fly all the way to an island to spend time with colleagues. However, what the internet did not know was that our company's team-building tradition involved booking a top-notch five-star resort every year: all-inclusive, family-friendly, with an extra three days of paid leave, and a $30,000 budget per person. The whole internet dubbed me a cold-blooded capitalist, so I decided to give in to their demands and issued a notice. [In response to employee feedback and to honor personal time, this year's team-building retreat has been canceled. Instead, a $500 allowance for personal travel will be provided.] The notice stirred up a commotion in the company. Long-time employees gathered at my office door, pleading for the return of the sunny Madiles retreat.

I paid for a first-class plane ticket with my own money to beat our competitors and locked down a multi-million-dollar deal. By the time I went back with the signed contract, I received a notice of termination. The reason was because I violated the company cost-saving policy, and I was dismissed effective immediately. I was stopped and mocked by Maeve Zolten, the intern assistant. "It's a strict company policy that only train travel is allowed for business trips. You deliberately violated this rule. Should we undermine the company's regulations just for you?" My fiancé and the CEO of the company, Chance Goode, backed her up without hesitation. "As the director, you're taking the lead in violating the rules, setting an extremely negative example!" Through the narrow gap in the blinds, I caught a glimpse of him cheating on me with Maeve. That was when I finally understood all the mistreatment. They clearly misunderstood who owned the deal if they thought firing me ended the story. They fired me for a ticket, but I would walk away with the future. I turned away, pulled out my phone, and made a phone call. "I'll join you and bring in my new energy project worth tens of millions of dollars. Additionally, does your company restrict key employees from flying for business negotiations?"

On the day of my daughter’s graduation trip, I ended up late because of work. When I rushed to the airport, I was stopped at the counter. “Sir, we don’t have your ticket details in the system.” I stood stunned for two seconds. I called my wife Sue Jenkins a dozen times before she finally picked up. “Did you buy a ticket for me?” It sounded very noisy on her end and her voice kept being cut off. “I accidentally filled in Clement’s name instead of yours, so I thought I’d just bring him along on the trip. I was so busy boarding the plane just now, I forgot to tell you. If you want to join us, take the next flight in…” My daughter’s voice suddenly sounded through the phone. “Dad, just do your work in peace. It’s good enough to have Mom and Clement with me on my graduation trip.” The call got cut off. The airport was bustling with people, but I stood rooted to the ground for a long time with my luggage case behind me. Sorrow filled my heart. When I was young, my mom was always biased toward my brother. She would always tell me that the elder brother should always give in to his younger brother. After growing up and having my own family, my wife took a liking for my younger brother. Even my daughter liked pestering him on a daily basis. I looked at the itinerary I spent many nights preparing. Exhaustion filled me. I picked up my phone and sent the resignation email I had typed out long ago to my company. Then, I booked a one-way flight ticket scheduled seven days later. Since I was always excluded, I decided to take the initiative to leave.

After my wife married and divorced me ten times, she signed a Love Insurance policy with me. "Ethan, I know I'm putting off the remarriage a little longer this time. So I'm signing this with you first. Think of it as my guarantee to you." Not long after, she wanted to terminate our policy so she could go marry the man she'd never gotten over. "Julian doesn't have long. His last wish is to marry me. I can't take that away from a dying man." What she didn't know was that the policy had a clause in it. If it was terminated before it matured, I'd be taken away by a private organization, and the two of us would never see each other again.

Nora and Noah's story from contracted: Love in the Shadow. "Hey, Nora..." Noah tried calling her, she ignored him. He bit his lips in anger, as her hand touched the doorknob, he yelled, no, more like roared, "DANYON!" Nora immediately froze in place. She closed her eyes for a second, fighting back tears. that name--- Noah, seeing her wounded expression, took a deep breath, "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--" "Don't," she snarled, haughtily glaring at him. “Don’t you even think about it.” “Nora—" He began to say, but she turned her back on him and stormed out of his office, ignoring the many eyes that followed her. ** Nora Danyon wasn’t supposed to survive the crash that killed her husband and children. Stripped of everything—her family, her sanity, and her will to live—she’s forced to start over in a world that feels colder than ever. And just when the darkness threatens to swallow her whole, he shows up… Noah Bamford—her late husband’s best friend and the man she once secretly loved. But Noah isn’t the same boy from the past. He’s distant, guarded, and haunted by ghosts of his own. Still, his presence pulls her back to life—until one stolen kiss in an elevator changes everything. Now emotions are spiraling, old wounds are ripping open, and just when Nora starts to believe in love again… Noah betrays her in the most unforgivable way. Now Nora is forced to male a choice ------ In a world where nothing is promised, and love isn’t written in contracts, can two broken souls rewrite the rules—or will their story end in ruins? There is drama, there is hate, and there is love, and above all, do they deserve a second chance? Sit back and enjoy the ride.

The night before our group trip, Raymond Kane tags me in the group chat and tells me to check my flight ticket. When I open the booking, I discover my ticket was refunded three days ago—without anyone telling me. Before I can even type a reply, the messages start pouring in. Madelyn announces, "I bet Ray that you wouldn't check the booking before we left. He got you to look it up yourself. That's cheating!" Raymond shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter. You still lost. She only just found out. Just book another one. We'll just have to sit apart." Their casual banter brings back a familiar ache. It reminds me of the time they bet on how long it would take me to realize my hotel room has been downgraded from a standard double to a shared triple, leaving me to sleep on a folding cot. And before that, they bet on whether I'd notice the art museum on our itinerary had been replaced with an escape room. Whenever I tell them it hurts, they always give the same tired reply. "How were we supposed to know you cared if you never said anything?" But they never ask. I close the booking app and open another one, searching for flights to Isvind. I imagine myself surrounded by the silence of a 5°F night, with the northern lights painting the sky above me. Perhaps a solo trip is exactly what I need.